The Road to Hell
by xstorymaker
Summary: Hermione and Draco are sent back in time to the year 1942 to do one thing: kill Tom Riddle, knowing that they might never come back. Over time, feelings change and develop. Hermione/Draco, but a bit of Hermione/Tom thrown in. Very AU!
1. Taking the Chance

_**Hey guys! Here's my new story, called The Road to Hell. It's very AU-ish, so if you don't like it, don't read it. Basically, Hermione (sixteen years old) is sent back in time to kill Tom Riddle, so that Voldemort never existed. Draco Malfoy – knowing more about Voldemort/Tom than she does – is sent back with her and along the way, they end up falling for each other while creating and carrying out a murder plan. This is Hermione/Draco, but there will also be some Hermione/Tom moments :) 'coz I love that ship. If you don't like Hermione-Tom/Hermione-Draco DO NOT READ THIS AND START COMPLAINING ABOUT IT! You can also watch the trailer for this here:**_

_**.com/watch?v=ZiZf_QjKxCE**_

_**Anyway, here's chapter one…**_

**The Road to Hell – Chapter One: Take A Chance**

"_A man can not free himself from the past more easily than he can free himself from his own body." ~ André Maurois_

Hermione sat in the chair Dumbledore had gestured towards. Her curly brown hair cascaded around her shoulders but lacked its usual vigour and her warm, chocolate-brown eyes became glassy. Judging by the apprehensive look on Dumbledore's face, she knew this meeting would not be a good one. Her hands began to shake and her heart pounded against her chest at the sight of him striding over to his desk. His old and frail yet strong hands delicately picked up the diary the once belonged to what was now the biggest threat facing both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. He picked up the diary that once belonged to Tom Marvolo Riddle. It had been destroyed of course, by Harry in their second year. Although she hadn't seen it with her own eyes – for she was petrified at the time – she felt some responsibility for it. After all, without her help, Harry and Ron would not have been able to get into the Chamber of Secrets. Without her help, Ginny would have died and Voldemort would have gained power a lot faster. Without her help, the diary would not have been destroyed.

"Tell me, Miss Granger," Dumbledore began, his voice faltering, "Have you ever come by the expression 'Horcrux'?"

Hermione was confused. "Sorry?"

"A Horcrux. Have you ever heard of the word?"

"Yes, sir. But I'm not sure what it is."

Dumbledore paused before proceeding. "What I am about to tell you is of very dark magic, very dark indeed. You must promise you won't say a word of it to anyone." Hermione nodded. "A Horcrux is an object in which a person has concealed a part of their soul. The person splits their soul and hides it in an object. By doing so you are protected should your body be destroyed. The part of your soul hidden inside the Horcrux lives on…in other words, you can not die." Dumbledore said, still clutching the ruined diary.

Hermione blinked, not sure what he was getting at exactly. Dumbledore continued. "To split one's soul, one must commit murder. Killing rips the soul apart as it is a violation against nature." Hermione remained silent, still unsure of Dumbledore's words. "This," he said, lifting the diary up so that she could see it clearly, "is one of Voldemort's _seven_ Horcruxes."

He handed her the diary and she took it with shaking hands. "Seven?" she whispered. Just holding the diary in her two hands sent an icy chill down her spine. Although this particular Horcrux had been destroyed, it was like having a piece of Voldemort right there with her.

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded. "Up until now, I thought the only way to kill him for good is to track down and destroy each one of his Horcruxes. However, I have thought of another solution. In order to stop Voldemort, we must begin to solve this problem at its root."

"Sir?"

"I have called you here tonight to ask of you…a favour. Never have I asked a pupil of such a dangerous task but I'm afraid there is no choice if we want any chance of winning this war. In order to stop Voldemort you must return to the past and change the course of time. What I'm asking of you, Hermione, is to return to the year 1942 – the year he was sixteen years old – and kill Tom Riddle."

Hermione gasped at the task she'd been given. It was as if Voldemort and Tom Riddle were two entirely different people. Defeating Tom Riddle sounded easy, whereas killing Voldemort seemed so far-fetched it was almost impossible. She shook her head at the thought of it. "What about Ron? And Harry? Can they come?"

Harry. She and Ron had gotten their fair share of glory, yes, but it had always been Harry who was there to save the day. It was Harry who defeated Quirrell when they were eleven. It was Harry who had killed the Basilisk and destroyed the diary in their second year. Harry who had saved Sirius. Harry who had defeated Voldemort in the graveyard in their fourth year, not to mention winning the Tri-Wizard tournament and coping with Cedric's death, despite seeing him being murdered so brutally right in front of him. Harry who had helped them escape the Ministry and the Death Eaters last year. And now, Dumbledore had asked Hermione – _only_ Hermione – to complete this task alone.

"I'm afraid not."

Hermione's heart plummeted to the ground. The trio had always done everything together, never leaving one of them out, always helping each other solve problems. Those three words made her give up her last shred of hope of ever killing Tom Riddle.

"No, I have a chosen a student who will accompany you during this task. The two of you may not enjoy each other's presence, but his family have been on the dark side once before and, well, he may know things about Voldemort that we do not." Dumbledore looked at her over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. "I hope that hatred does not come between the two of you enough to endanger this mission."

There was a sudden knock on the door. "Come in," Dumbledore said, raising his voice slightly so that whoever was outside could hear him. "Ah, here's your companion now."

"Evening Professor Dumbledore," a voice from behind her drawled, "Granger."

Hermione recognized the voice instantly and immediately stood up, spinning around to see the ice-blonde hair, steel-grey eyes and pale face of Draco Malfoy.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, outraged, forgetting that she was in the presence of Professor Dumbledore. "I can't go back in time with him! I…I can't!"

"Listen, Granger, I feel the exact same way. Going back to the year 1942 with you isn't exactly my ideal way to spend time." He drawled lazily.

"Enough!" Dumbledore shouted. "You are the brightest students of your age, which is merely one reason I have selected you to complete this task."

"So let me get this straight," Malfoy said. "You're asking us to go back in time and kill Tom Riddle? Do we go back looking like ourselves or what?"

"No." Dumbledore stated. "I have, on my possession, an elixir I obtained about fifty years ago." He pulled out a glass bottle from the drawer in his desk. It was filled with a gold-coloured liquid and seemed to change colour as it caught the light from the lamps that hung from the ceiling of Dumbledore's office. "You will drink this while I perform a spell and the two of you will become different people. However, this potion is rather odd – for your identity can only be masked by someone else's during the day. At nightfall, you will change back to your normal selves. Then I will cast another spell that will take you back in time."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "But, Professor, how do you know that potion will work? And why can't we use the time-turner I had back in my third year?"

"There is no telling whether this potion will work or not, but if it does not no damage will be done to either of you, and as for the time-turner, well, you need to go back to 1942. The time-turner can not take you that far back through time I'm afraid." Worry registered on Dumbledore's face. "The spell I am going to use hasn't been cast by anyone since the 1800's, when it became illegal, because people were meddling with time and completely changing people's lives. I must warn you, if the spell – which is incredibly difficult to cast – is not done properly, the two of you may be stuck in 1942 forever."

Hermione gasped, whilst Draco kept calm, but you could see there was panic in his eyes. "Are you willing to take the chance?" Dumbledore asked.

The two of them hesitated before answering, Hermione with a whispered "Yes," and Draco with a quick nod.

"Well I'm not," came a voice from behind them. Hermione whizzed around at the voice, instantaneously matching it to the face. There stood Ron Weasley, looking outraged.

"Ron?" Hermione said, walking towards him.

"What do you want Weasley?" Draco spat, but Ron seemed to ignore this.

"You can't go Hermione. You might get stuck there forever!" He cried. "You're not going." He said firmly. "I'm not willing to take that risk."

"But I _am_, Ron." Hermione said. "Don't worry. I'll be back and all of this, everything, will be over. Don't you want that?"

"Yes, but I'm not willing to lose one of my best friends for it," he growled.

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, resting her head on his chest. "I'm sorry. I have to." She sniffed. "Where's Harry?"

"I'm right here." Hermione pulled away from Ron to see Harry stood there, his arms crossed. "Professor, can't Ron and I go with her?"

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry." He said, as Hermione embraced Harry as she did Ron, who – as soon as Hermione let go of Harry – strode over and put her arm round her again.

"I can't let you go, Hermione." Ron said, looking at the floor, his arms wrapped around her.

"I'll be fine, Ron."

"I'm sorry Ron, Harry, but we really must get going now," Dumbledore said softly. Harry nodded, accepting that she had to do this. Ron, on the other hand, sighed in anger and swallowed. "Yes, Professor."

The two of them made to leave Dumbledore's office, waving at Hermione as they left. Hermione waved back, maybe for the last time in her life…

_**Oooooh! So I hope you liked that! I know it seemed like Ron and Hermione are together, but you know…he's really overprotective of her and whatever.**_

_**This will soon be Hermione/Draco with a little Hermione/Tom thrown in, but you'll have to wait for that :D**_

_**So, review! Oh and remember to watch the trailer for this, and if you do, COMMENT!**_


	2. Meeting the Heir

**Chapter Two – Meeting the Heir**

_"If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself." ~ Hermann Hesse_

Hermione wiped away a tear at the sight of her best friends leaving, before rejoining Dumbledore and Malfoy, who rolled his eyes at the sight of her. Dumbledore had a sincere look on his face. His expression screamed guilt, but Hermione brushed this away. She knew this was something they had to do and may be the only opportunity they got of defeating Voldemort.

"Now," Dumbledore said, unstopping the bottle of gold-yellow liquid, "You'll both drink this when I say so. The elixir has the same effect as the Polyjuice Potion, except for the fact that you will turn back to yourselves only at nightfall. Before you leave, you must each get your stories straight. You're exchange students, both from somewhere different. You are also both Prefects for whichever house you will be sorted into." He poured it equally into to glasses and handed them one each.

"Excuse me, sorted?" Malfoy asked rudely. "You mean we'll have to be sorted again?"

"Yes." Dumbledore replied bluntly. Draco sighed exasperatedly.

"Good luck, Granger," Malfoy drawled sarcastically, before tipping the contents of the glass into his mouth.

Suddenly Hermione was rooted to the spot and couldn't move. She looked up at Draco, who was so confident, so cool about all this. From afar, you'd think that he was the chivalrous, brave Gryffindor, not _her_.

Suddenly his white-blonde hair turned a dark, charcoal colour and fell into his now-bright-blue eyes. His skin turned a shade or two darker and his body turned more muscular. "Right, Draco, since you are now a new person, you'll have to remember a few details; your name is now Blaine Prince, Pureblood. You're from Washington in America." Dumbledore handed Draco – or Blaine, as he must now be called – a mirror, so that he could see his new appearance.

He held the mirror in his left hand and – surprise, surprise – started fixing his black, mussed-up hair with his right, before smirking at himself in the mirror and handing it back to Professor Dumbledore.

"Don't I just look _amazing_, Granger?" He said, smirking. She rolled her tearful eyes and a sudden wave of bravery rushed through her and she gulped down the gold liquid in her glass, trying to ignore the peculiar taste of whatever she was drinking.

"Not Granger – Munroe." Dumbledore corrected as Hermione's brown hair turned to a dark cocoa colour. Her chocolate-brown eyes got lighter until they reached a warm hazel. She grew several centimetres taller, and as she did her body became more curvaceous. At the sight of her – without realising it, of course – Draco's jaw dropped open. "Hermione, your new name is Brielle Munroe, half-blood. You come from Paris in France. Over time, the two of you will develop characteristics and do things you probably wouldn't do. Basically, you will become a completely new person." Dumbledore handed her the mirror and she smiled at the reflection she saw. Her skin was lightly tanned and her cheekbones had become more visible.

"But," Hermione said, "I still talk like me."

"So do I," Draco added, finally looking away from this new Hermione.

Dumbledore nodded. "Your parents were all English, but moved – in your case – to America," he said, looking at Draco, and then at Hermione, "and in your case – to France." Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh, and then began talking very quickly. "The two of you must understand that, once I perform the spell, you will return to the year 1942 and may never come back. Please, do not let hatred come between the two of you. I'm sorry it had to be you to complete this mission."

"Wait…I thought _you_ chose _us_, Professor." Hermione said confusedly.

"No, the names were chosen by prophecy. I would have chosen myself if this mission wasn't so important. That is why Potter and Weasley couldn't come with, you, Miss Granger. Anyway, the next day the two of you _must_ make your way to the Transfiguration classroom, where I will be teaching fifth-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs first period. You must – and this is absolutely vital – say you're collecting something for Professor Slughorn from the office behind the Transfiguration classroom. Once you get in, you'll find a stack of books on my desk, with a single piece of parchment on it. Take it – it's extremely important."

Hermione's inquisitive mind couldn't wait to find out what it was. "What is it?"

"Tom Riddle's timetable. We'll need it." Draco – or rather, Blaine – said.

She looked up at him. "How do you know?"

"_Please_," he replied mockingly, "I've already thought this through," he smirked, winking.

"Remember, Tom Riddle was never really one for formalities. Do not speak to him under any circumstances, unless you are merely introducing yourselves as Prefects, as he was also one of them, is that clear?" Hermione and Draco nodded simultaneously. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Then it is time."

A lightning bolt of electricity sizzled at every nerve in Hermione's body. Draco's jaw tightened, but he did his best to swallow his fear. "Now, the two of you must hold hands." Dumbledore said, as if it was the simplest thing on earth.

"I'm not holding hands with _her_!"

"Ugh…as much as I would hate to touch you, we kind of _have_ to, so the sooner you do it the sooner it'll stop." Hermione snapped, giving her hand. He took it in his and sighed with annoyance. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and seemed to hold it tighter as Dumbledore took out his wand.

"As soon as I cast this spell, you'll arrive in the Headmaster Dippet's office. He will be in the Great Hall already, and will be awaiting your arrival, therefore you shall make your way to the Sorting as soon as you get there." Dumbledore paused for a few moments. "When you are ready to return, and there is no knowing whether this spell will work, simply concentrate on the year you want to come back to and say the words '_Tempus Rediterus._' If the spell doesn't work, I am truly, truly sorry. Are you ready?"

Draco nodded, his eyes closed. Hermione simply blinked up at Dumbledore.

"Very well. I need you both to concentrate on the year 1942, nothing else just that." He gave them a few seconds to clear their heads of thoughts, and Hermione started shaking, her hand trembling against Malfoy's. She concentrated hard, and heard Dumbeldore mutter something. "Good luck…_Tempus Morphus_!"

The pair suddenly felt as if they were plummeting down a dark, never-ending abyss. A wave of nausea passed through them, and they were being tossed from side to side, but the two never let go of each other. They landed simultaneously with a thud on what must have been Headmaster Dippet's office. Draco let out a shaky breath while Hermione just lay there, completely and utterly stunned by what had just happened.

"Let go of me," she snapped harshly as she unlaced her fingers from his and stood up, but he didn't seem to mind. "Is this it?"

"Well," Draco said, also standing up and brushing himself off, "Judging by the fact that the tiny number on the huge grandfather clock over there says September 1st, 1942…I'd say yes."

"I really don't need your sarcastic comments, Draco," Hermione barked agitatedly. "I mean…_Blaine_. I don't need your sarcastic comments, _Blaine_." She had to look away from him. Not seeing bleach-blonde hair and grey eyes was weird knowing it was really Draco underneath that disguise. He probably felt the same about her, but he most definitely wasn't showing it.

"Right, the Sorting's probably already started, so we need to get down to the Great Hall and get re-sorted. Remember, we'll probably be in different houses, but just _pray_ that _one_ of us is in Slytherin. That way we might get a little closer to Tom Riddle. It'd be harder if we were both in totally different houses." Hermione reeled.

"Calm _down_," Draco said.

"I _am_ calm." Hermione said, very un-calmly.

"Right, so after we're sorted? Then what do we do?"

"Then we go to our dorms and tomorrow, we go to the Transfiguration classroom and get the copy of Riddle's timetable. Then go to our lessons and act as normal as possible."

"Then?"

"I have no idea…"

* * *

><p>"Munroe, Brielle."<p>

Hermione made her way up to the stool in front of the Great Hall and the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, and she swallowed nervously. "Ah…very smart and witty, I see…" it said, "but also brave and chivalrous…loyal…cunning…now where to put you…?"

Draco, who had – thankfully – been sorted in to Slytherin again, looked over to her in an almost longing way (although it was quite hard to distinguish him from all the other students as he looked nothing like his usual self). She couldn't blame him – this would be quicker and easier if they were both sorted into the same house.

"All right…" The Sorting Hat boomed. The next few seconds seemed to stretch out like hours. Everything froze around her and she did not hear the cheers that came from her new house table, only the one word that the Sorting Hat uttered.

"Gryffindor!"

Hermione let out a huge breath and shook her head, which went unnoticed by anyone else. _Well,_ Hermione thought, _If this is anything like the Hogwarts __**I **__know, Gryffindors and Slytherins have most lessons together, anyway…_

She shuffled over to the Gryffindor table and sat beside a red-headed boy, getting the weirdest feeling of déjà vu. "Hi," she said politely.

"It's great to meet you Brielle. I'm Septimus Weasley," the boy said, shaking her hand. She recognized the name instantly – she'd heard Ron say his grandfather's name on more than one occasion. "I'm a Prefect for Gryffindor, too," he said enthusiastically.

Hermione beamed. "Well then I look forward to working with you."

After the Sorting had finished, the students gobbled down food like there was no tomorrow – something that Hermione remembered very, very clearly from her time at Hogwarts. She looked at Septimus, who totally resembled Ron in her eyes…not just by the way he looked, but by the way he ate. Oh yes – shovelling food endlessly into your mouth seemed to run in the Weasley family, not to mention having insides made of concrete.

"Come on, we should get to the Headmaster's office." Septimus said, finishing his meal. "All Prefects have to go after dinner, you see…"

Hermione nodded in agreement and then followed him to Professor Dippet's office.

* * *

><p>"Now, off you go to your dormitories," Professor Dippet said, shooing them all away. Hermione looked over at Draco, who was stood alone, looking uncomfortable, next to the two Ravenclaw Prefects.<p>

"Sorry I'm late Headmaster," someone drawled lazily from behind them. Hermione whizzed around to see who it was, and saw a quite attractive, black-haired boy with dark eyes staring back at her.

"It's fine." Professor Dippet smiled. "Brielle, Blaine, why don't you introduce yourselves?"

The black-haired boy made his way over to Hermione, "I'm Brielle," she smiled politely, holding out her hand.

He did not smile back; his face was completely emotionless, as were his eyes. He shook her hand civilly, his eyes never leaving hers. The reason was unbeknownst to her, but a sudden feeling of hate rushed through her. Without realising she was doing it, she looked at the crest on his robes, and saw that he was in Slytherin.

_This must be…_

"Tom Riddle."

* * *

><p><strong><em>OOOOOOOOO! Haha, I'm sorry this chapter was so BORING, but I just HAD to get it out of the way. Review if you wanna see some Dramionea Tom-Mione argument (hehe ;D)/some...other stuff I have planned...haha! REVIEW!_**


	3. Breaking the Barrier

_**Hey guys! So I just wanted to let you know that Tom will be a little OOC in this story, so if you don't like it, DON'T FREAKIN' READ IT.**_

_**OK I'm joking. Please read it. I love you guys. You're awesome.**_

_**Oh and one other thing. In Chapter One, it was mentioned that Hermione and Draco's personalities would change little by little. In this chapter, you might see them do some un-Hermione-ish or un-Draco-ish things. So don't be surprised.**_

_**Also if you like the Rose/Scorpius ship, read my other fanfiction – The New Divide. **_

_**Yeah…is that all I wanted to say? Yeah? Yeah. OK…enjoy!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three - Breaking the Barrier<strong>

Hermione held the piece of paper in her hands. Names of classes and professors were written all over it, like a millipede had dipped its legs in ink and ran rampage over the parchment. The writing was small, except for three printed, capital words at the head of the page; **TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.**

Hermione shuddered as she read the words. Draco was stood behind her, reading it the timetable. She was starting to doubt Professor Dumbledore's plan. Hermione knew that Tom wouldn't converse with anybody who didn't have a Pureblood status – if he conversed at all, that was. She thought it would be better if she acted as though was born into a Wizarding family. Then again, it would be better not to draw attention to herself; to act as if she was one of them. According to Dumbledore, Tom Riddle barely spoke to anyone, no matter their blood status.

Hermione sighed. She was a mass of contradictions right now, and in a very abnormal-like way, Draco noticed it. "What is it?"

Hermione spun around to face him and frowned, her now-hazel eyes glazed over with confusion. She shook her head and looked away. "We're planning on killing the person who is going to become the most powerful Dark wizard if we fail. A dark wizard that _your_ family work for."

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione laughed. "Are you trying to deny it? Because I wouldn't believe you if you did."

"You're insane."

Hermione walked away from him, her back facing him, dropping the subject. "I was thinking – it'd be easier if we both acted as if we were Pureblood, wouldn't it? I mean, it'll already be hard enough to get him to talk as it is, but I think it'll be a little easier if we both acted like we're from Wizarding families."

Draco nodded. "That's probably better."

A bell sounded, and the pair automatically filed out of the library and made their way downstairs and into the great hall. Hermione was about to step inside, when Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her back. They were stood so close she could feel his minty breath on her skin. "Draco, let go of me…what are you doing?"

He slowly let her fingers slip away from his and flicked his charcoal-black hair away from his crystal blue eyes. "Sorry…I…don't know what came over me."

Hermione, still frowning, nodded as she watched Draco walk past her into the hall. "Wait!" She hissed. "What's the plan?"

"To eat breakfast? I'm starving."

She sighed irritably. "Look," she spotted him, sat alone at the Slytherin table. There was an atmosphere of coldness and evilness around Tom Riddle as he sat there, not eating or drinking anything, not making eye contact with anybody. Just sat in his own cocoon, away from the real world. "He's there. You should get to know him, or at least, _ask_ other people about him. Okay?"

Draco sighed, but muttered an almost-inaudible, "Yes."

Hermione nodded, and then the two made their own ways to their own separate tables…

* * *

><p>"Say," Hermione said, swallowing the food in her mouth, "what's the deal with that boy over there? I…think his name is Tom?"<p>

The girl beside her, Kendra, frowned at her, which was then replaced with an apprehensive look. "Riddle's very…odd. He likes his space and likes to just get on with things. He's really quiet. I've never talked to him…hell; I've never even made eye contact with him. It's like he's there, but barely, if you know what I mean. People just stay out of his way. He's respected, but he's quite frightening. I wouldn't try and start a conversation with him, Brielle."

Hermione – still getting used to her new name – did not respond. "Bree?" Kendra repeated.

"What? Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you. Anyway, what did you say? Frightening?"

"Yeah. He's kind of twisted. He keeps drawing this…this _mark_ everywhere – doodling it on any spare parchment, during class…"

"What kind of mark?" Hermione asked timidly. She knew what was coming.

Kendra hesitated before answering. "It's this sort of skull, with a snake coming out of his mouth. Looks more like a death omen to me."

Something clicked inside Hermione. If Tom Riddle had already started creating the Dark Mark, was it possible that he'd already opened the Chamber of Secrets. Was it possible that he'd already created the first Horcrux, if not the first few?

"Oh. Well. Professor Dippet asked me to meet him in his office after breakfast, so I should be going now." Hermione smiled apologetically, swung her bag over her shoulder and, before getting up to leave, had the strangest feeling she was being watched. She scanned the Great Hall for anyone who could be looking at her, and then she saw. Tom Riddle was staring right at her, his dark eyes boring into hers. A shudder of fear ran through her, and she felt as if a ghostly finger was running down her spine. She looked away and began to walk out of the Great Hall, the feeling of being watched still flooding through her…

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Mr Riddle," Professor Dippet said, nodding towards the door. Hermione whizzed around, as did Draco – who was stood beside her – to see the dark-haired boy walk into the Headmaster's office and swing the door shut behind him. His eyes locked on Hermione again and she gave a shaky breath as he walked forward.<p>

"Morning, Professor," he muttered, not taking his eyes off her. His expression was unreadable, blank. Finally he looked away, his gaze now on Professor Dippet. "What is it you wanted to talk to us about?"

The group of four – Tom, Hermione, Draco and a quiet, blonde girl named Scarlet (another Prefect, also from Gryffindor house) – stared at Armando inquisitively. "Well, to give Brielle and Blaine a proper welcome to our school, I thought – as Prefects – Scarlet and Tom should get to know them a little whilst showing around the school."

Hermione automatically made to walk towards Scarlet, the other girl, when Professor Dippet interrupted. "No, no, no, I think – to promote inter-house communication – Tom should be paired with Brielle, and Scarlet with Blaine."

Tom was the first to protest. "But sir –"

"My decision is final." Tom clenched his jaw in anger at Dippet's words. "The four of you will be excused from class for the whole day. I have let your Professors know about your absence. Now, off you go."

Hermione was speechless. She looked at Draco for help – something she would never, _ever_ do if she was back at home. But, she thought, he was the only one who could even try and do something. If he wasn't here, she'd be alone. Lost and alone.

But Draco simply shrugged apologetically. '_Be careful_,' he mouthed as Professor Dippet gave him a gentle but firm nudge out the door.

Hermione nodded…but he was already gone. Once again she felt Riddle's eyes boring through her. She turned to face him, and unlike most people would, he didn't look away, but his dark eyes seemed to turn more dangerous as she met his gaze.

* * *

><p>Hermione hated this. She hated the feeling of goosebumps forming all over her body constantly. She hated the fact that she kept gripping her wand as if Riddle would attack her at any moment. She hated the cold atmosphere around him, and how she felt as if she had to keep her distance the whole time they were walking beside each other in complete silence. She hoped, for the first (and hopefully last) time in her life, that she would bump into Draco. He was the only one she felt safe around, and that was a strange and unknown feeling to her, but it was obvious he felt the same. Without each other they were vulnerable, and one slip of the tongue without the other there to cover up for them could expose their secret completely.<p>

Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as the two entered the library. "This is the library, but I'm sure you already know that…" He muttered darkly.

"What do you mean?"

Tom shrugged. "You and that Prince boy spend a lot of time in here, don't you?"

Hermione frowned, feeling a blush creep up to her cheeks. "How would _you_ know?"

"I…don't see why that is any of your business, Miss Munroe." Tom said. "I spend a lot of time in here. That's all. It seems to be the only place I'm able to get some peace and quiet in this castle."

"Mm," Hermione hummed, not entirely convinced. Tom looked down at his hand and began twirling a gold ring inset with a black stone engraved with the Peverell coat of arms. Marvolo Gaunt's ring. One of his Horcruxes…

"Tell me – that Prince boy. Is he…intelligent?" Tom asked, whilst running his finger down the spine of a particularly old-looking book.

Hermione frowned inwardly. "Yes…why?"

"You seem to be fond of each other." Tom said, giving her a sideways glance. Despite everything, looking at his lustrous black hair and his mysterious dark eyes, she couldn't help but feel he was quite attractive…

No! That was absurd. Was she forgetting that the person in front of him would grow up to be the most powerful Dark wizard that ever lived? Was she forgetting the hell that he had put her, Harry and Ron through?

Harry and Ron…she ached for them. She had never felt so lost, or so alone…

"Anyway, I must be going now. I have some…_business_ to take care of."

"What kind of business?" Hermione asked timidly, but instantly regretted it as Tom's eyes flashed dangerously. She knew she'd crossed the line, broken a barrier that had meant to be left alone.

"You have been here for less than 48 hours and you think you can poke your nose in where it is unwanted? Why? What does it have to do with you, anything I do in my spare time?" He growled angrily. Hermione's heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour, and she had never wanted to take back words, and never so fast. She nodded, and with that he turned away from her and walked straight out of the library, not looking back for a second...

Had Tom Riddle already opened the Chamber of Secrets?

Since she couldn't ask him outright, she decided there was only one way to find out for herself…

* * *

><p><strong>Soooo guys how was that, huh? I know I haven't updated this for freakin' ages, but now I have, so deal with it.<strong>

**OMG. DUDES. HOW DID YOU FIND DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2? IT WAS FREAKIN EPIC, RIGHT? **_**RIGHT**_**?**

**Anyway, in the next chapter, some people may or may not be petrified, Hermione may or may not do something she regrets, and a bunch of other stuff happens. If you wanna see it, REVIEW!**


End file.
